Stand Still, Look Pretty
by ellisande89
Summary: Set after the series finale, Rory became everything she wanted to be. Though she was living her dream, she realized that there was something missing. Someone, though she didn’t know who. Once she was home again, Rory began a different journey to find him.
1. The Trifecta

**A/N: **This is my first Gilmore fanfic and I hope many of you will enjoy it. I looove photoshop so expect pictures from each chapter to be posted up. I'll be posting the link at the end of each chapter for those of you who are interested in seeing the pictures.

At this point, I don't know whether it'll be a narc/literati/sophies or maybe, even none of them. So expect nothing. lol.

RR! Enjoy!

**STAND STILL, LOOK PRETTY.**

**CHAPTER 1**

**The Trifecta**

She did it. She made it.

Everything she had ever dreamt of, everything she had ever aspired to be, she _became _it.

She tore her eyes away from the laptop sitting on the wooden table in front of her, and gazed at the scenery outside her one-windowed room. Everything was dry; the people walked around with their heads down, shoulders heavy with the weight of the world. Children who were not supposed to know the evil that the world was capable of walked around with too knowing eyes, haggard and guarded. The world was too cruel, too cruel for this small town. The nation was torn by civil war and these people were sitting ducks for those who did not know better. They refused to leave this place that they called home, and many had paid the fatal consequences.

She had stood many times in front of the camera, in the middle of chaos, with people behind her screaming and running, when all hell broke lose. She had stood still, her fear kept in check, reporting what the world needed to know, reporting the truth. Always in her mind she repeated what her mother, Lorelai Gilmore, had told her a lifetime ago, "Stand still and look pretty." And she had been doing just that these past few years, ever since her mother had told her to. Even though her first instinct was to run and find safety whenever the war raged behind her, she did not. She had stood still, she had told the world what she knew, and she had looked damn great while doing it.

She was Rory Gilmore, a journalist, an international correspondent. She was, in other words, the next Christiane Amanpour.

Rory returned her eyes to the laptop screen, her astonishing blue eyes scanning the words before her; it was an email from her mother back in Stars Hollow, an immediate reply to the email Rory wrote just last night. One sentence stuck out and she smiled while reading it; _the stick turned blue_. In her personal opinion, it was long overdue. Her mother had been married to Luke Danes for a couple of years now and she knew that they had been trying, and now, after so long, they finally got their wish granted. Rory was hoping for a brother, and her mother said just as much in the email. After all, she did have two sisters already.

Jackson and Sookie were doing well with their three kids; Davey, Martha and Jamie. Rory supposed that they all must be adorably chubby now, it had been years since she saw them last. Lane and Zach were fine too; it was still the four of them. Steve and Kwan had just celebrated their fourth birthday and from what she heard from her mother, the party was at the same time, a blast and a disaster. And of course, there were all the other Stars Hollow residents that she missed; she never thought she would miss them this much, what with all their annoying tendencies and quirkiness. But she had come to realize that their qualities were all endearing. Kirk finally married Lulu and Rory regretted that she wasn't home to attend the wedding.

It was a price that she had to pay; she knew it before she started her job. She would miss all of this. Her job hardly left her any time to visit or attend life changing events that were taking place back home. Her job took her around the world, and she knew it would. She lived with her decision and though she didn't regret it, it didn't stop her from feeling sad every once in a while.

She replied her mother's email starting with a big, capitalized and heartfelt CONGRATULATIONS, followed by how she was doing, what was going on around her… the usual. Rory ended her long virtual letter by saying that she missed everyone terribly and that she couldn't wait to be back; whenever that would be.

Once her email was sent and underway, she leaned back against her hard chair and sighed. Rory looked to the unusually large pile of letters next to her laptop which had just arrived that morning. It had been a while since she had received her mail, mostly from fans who were tired with the virtual robotic reply that they get if they sent her an email. Handwritten letters were more personal, though they took much longer to reach her; especially this bunch, which she supposed had gotten lost for many months.

Pulling her chair closer to the table, Rory started sifting through them, looking mainly at the addresses at the back. She always liked to know where her fans were from; it amazed her how many countries watched her through the news, how many people listened to what she had to say. After many years on the job, it never ceased to amaze her.

As she sifted through the letters, a particular handwriting caught her eyes. It was a handwriting that she had seen years ago on the margins of her copy of Howl. She froze. Her heart seemed to freeze too. She could not even recall the last time she had heard from him. It had been _that _long ago. She closed her eyes and tried to picture him in her head; the dark-haired mysterious boy who had selfishly stolen her heart. She could see him, standing aloof by the petrol station, hands in his pockets, with a cigarette propped on his mouth. Jess Mariano; the first boy who had sweetly broken her heart.

Feeling blood return to her heart, Rory put that letter aside, drove it out of her mind and continued to sift through the endless fan mails. She smiled when she saw a letter from Indonesia and made a mental note to read that one first. But her smile disappeared when, yet again, Rory recognized a handwriting that she had almost forgotten.

It was a messy scrawl, as if the writer was in a hurry as he was writing it. If Jess was years ago, this was _forever _ago. A picture formed in her mind without command, of a boy of sixteen, standing, waiting for her by a green truck, at her old high school's courtyard. Dean. One of the tallest boys that she had ever met… the first boy she had fallen in love with, who she had hurt more than once. A fuzzy feeling arose in her stomach, butterflies they call it. He was her first love and her _first_. He was her first for everything.

Putting that letter aside like she did with Jess's, she tried to get those two men out of her mind, and continued with the task at hand. It proved to be impossible but she continued to sift through, thinking that those two letters were the only surprises that she'd get, when another letter caught her eyes.

It was the only typed letter of the bunch and when she saw CA at the back, she knew instantly who it was from. Logan Huntzberger. Oh it was all too fresh in her mind. The image of him walking away from her, with his head hung low, holding the engagement ring in his pocket, his blonde hair disappearing into the crowd… broke her heart. It broke her then, it still broke her now. He was the first guy she had _wanted,_ the first guy _she_ had chased. And like those years ago, she still knew why he was worth the chase. He had proposed to her! He had known that she was the girl who he had wanted to spend the rest of his life with! Oh to be that sure. She loved the fact that he proposed, but hated that she knew that she had to say no. He took her breath away, and even after all this time, just a mental picture of him in her mind, still had the same effect.

Placing that letter along with the other two, she stared at them, wonderment written on her face.

All three. _Her _trifecta.

She lifted one of her pale hands to take one of the three, but hesitated when she didn't know which one to choose. She grimaced bitterly; the story of her life. As her hand came down on one, the door to her room opened abruptly.

Wallace stood by her door, panting for breath staring hard at her. He was a good-looking man that she had noticed, also a journalist, who had been with her these past three years. He was not her boyfriend, not even close, but they have a relationship. A physical relationship.

She raised her eyebrows at him, frowning at his sweat-matted reddish brown hair, and waited for him to speak, her hand still hovering above one of the letters.

"A riot. Now."

He ran the way he came from and Rory wasted no time. Leaving the letters as they were, she grabbed her bag, and ran after Wallace. As she closed the door, her eyes went to the three letters on her table, questioning their presence, wondering what each men had to say to her after all these years. Shrugging off the thought and focusing at the task at hand, she caught a reflection of herself in the window.

"Stand still, look pretty," she muttered under her breath and quickly shut the door behind her to run after the _current_ man in her life.

**A/N: **There's no link for this chapter. But if you take a look at my profile you'll see a cover that I made for this story.

So what did you guys think?? Oh do tell me! Your reviews are what keep me going.


	2. A Long Time Coming

**A/N: **Thank you very much to all those people who had reviewed the previous chapter; I love to hear what all of you have to say. It's what keeps me going. ).

Regarding a review that I had gotten about Rory being out of character, I just want to say that in my story, it's been years since she have had a serious relationship, and the reason why she is the way she is now is because her heart is still in the past, and well, this story is about her figuring that out. Rory's older now, and she's changed. When she goes away for a long period of time to do her job, she gets lonely, and thus she has Wallace.

I understand where you're coming from though, and I appreciate what you had to say. Thanks for taking notice. :)

Anyway, enjoy this chapter! There'll be a link for the photoshopped picture at the end.

R&R!

**STAND STILL, LOOK PRETTY**

**CHAPTER 2**

**A LONG TIME COMING**

Rory returned to her small room after a very exciting, life-threatening news day. It was not breaking news; it had been a small riot compared to the previous ones that she had voluntarily been in the middle of. But for some reason, it was the one that had her thinking about her death.

Every time she went out with her microphone to stand in what hell must surely look like, she knew that she was in danger. But no matter how scared she was, or no matter how bad the situation was, she had focused, letting her thoughts go nowhere but to the story at hand. And even though she had been injured more than once, the reality of what she was doing never grabbed her like it did today.

_She had run after Wallace, trusting the tall man to lead her to the riot, to where the danger was, no questions asked. And when she had burst into the scene, seeing her camera man and everyone else ready in position waiting for her and feeling rather than seeing Wallace took out his tape recorder beside her, fear totally grabbed her by the neck. _

_She had stood, rooted to the spot, her eyes drinking everything in. She had felt Wallace started to run towards the disarray and without thinking, she had grabbed his hand, willing him to stop. _

_He had turned, his eyes questioning as it met hers. It had turned to worry when he saw how big with fear her blue eyes were. When Rory saw the concern starting to fill his handsome face, she shook her head to get a grip on herself. Turning to look at her crew, she saw that their expressions mirrored Wallace's. _

_Rory had never hesitated. _

_Grimacing, she had pushed Wallace's hand away and ran into the destructive scene, trusting everyone else to do their job behind her. _

_Rory had then turned to face the camera and in that instant, she became what she was, Rory Gilmore, a journalist, an international correspondent. _

Rummaging through her first aid kit to look for band-aids for her minor cuts, Rory deliberately ignored the three letters sitting on her table. She knew that the presence of those letters were what caused her to perform so poorly at her job today and she would put off looking at those letters for as long as she could.

_Stand still, look pretty, _she thought to herself. _How ironic. _

She left the letters as they were and went about doing what she needed to do before she got ready for bed. People knocked on her door, but she didn't answer them. She had too much in her mind to tolerate being pestered with their sympathy. She needed to be alone for a bit, to mull things over.

Turning the tap on, Rory slowly undressed, taking care for her minor yet scathing cuts, and contemplated.

She was everything she had ever hoped to be. She graduated Chilton and Yale, went on a one year campaign trail and went to many different foreign places that enabled her to become her role model. Everything she had worked for, she got. _Everything._

And yet, Rory could not explain the feeling of something missing in her life. Never since she had started her job, had she ever given this missing part a thought before.

Never until she received those three letters.

Dean, Jess and Logan.

It was strange for her to think that the three of them actually watched her on the news… that they could still _see _her, see what she had been up to all these years that she had been away from them. She, for one, couldn't, nor had she bothered to look them up. There was too much baggage between them and Rory didn't want to dig up old memories that now would only serve to bring pain into her heart.

Rory was sure that she had gotten over them, or rather, had managed to never think about them anymore, but it didn't change the fact that she never had a serious relationship after those three. She had always justified it by saying to herself that it was because her job didn't allow such a commitment, that it would just put an enormous strain on the relationship. But now she wasn't so sure.

Standing in the midst of the riot that day, she had thought to herself, if she died there, how could she ever make things right? What was there to be made right, she didn't even know herself, but Rory just knew that if she didn't see those three men again, whatever she had achieved until that point would mean nothing. If she died, she would die thinking that she was a failure.

Rory had her dream job, but no, she hadn't gotten everything.

She continued to wash herself, hissing as the cold water ran through her bruised body. She heard the door to her room open and knew that it must be Wallace; he was the only one she had given a key to. She could hear him hum the tune to Walking on Sunshine, his favourite song. The humming grew louder and Rory knew he was getting closer. Soon enough, he entered the bathroom and his eyes tightened when he saw the cuts adorning her pale body.

He grabbed her towel hanging by the door as she rinsed her body for one last time. He came closer and wrapped the towel around her petite body, hugging her from behind. Even though the pain of her cuts multiplied, she felt comforted by his presence and savored the moment.

"You're okay?" Wallace softly whispered above her ear.

He was a head taller than her and she leaned her wet head on his shoulder.

"I'm fine," she replied just as softly.

He was a close companion. But she didn't love him. Not in the way she had loved the other three.

Freeing herself from his embrace, Rory walked out of the bathroom and started dressing herself for bed. Wallace watched from the bathroom door saying nothing, but his eyes spoke volumes.

Rory ignored the love that she saw in him; he knew that she didn't love him the way he loved her and he accepted it. She had made it clear since the very first day they had decided to be more than friends that what they had was not a relationship. It was physical and nothing more; she expected nothing and hoped that he did not either. And truly at first, everything was exactly just that. But somewhere along the way, he had faltered and had fallen in love with her. But Wallace being Wallace, honored their agreement and never asked for anything more. He knew who Rory Gilmore was; a bold, hard-working woman who never gets attached. He knew, but he did not or could not stop loving her.

"We can go home, Rory," Wallace said, breaking the silence once Rory was dry and dressed.

Rory eyed the letters once more and nodded.

"Good."

She walked over to her table and ran her fingers over the three letters.

"Rory…"

Feeling the pain in his voice, Rory had no choice but to turn and look at him across the room. She knew the reason for his sadness. Once they were back in America, they would be going to opposite ends of the continent. What they had, whatever it was to Wallace, would be over the moment they stepped on American soil and judging from the look on his face, he was not ready to let her go.

"Wallace, you knew what we were from the beginning," Rory said bluntly.

"I know," he replied.

Rory waited for him to say more but he didn't.

"Wallace, I-,"

"We leave tomorrow morning," Wallace butted in. He knew that what she had wanted to say was not what he wanted to hear from her.

He came nearer and kissed her gently on the forehead before leaving; his mouth lingered a while on her skin, making the best of what time he had left. She looked up, meeting his eyes and kissed him lightly on the lips. He wanted more, but that was all she was willing to give.

She pulled away from him and begged with her eyes for him to understand.

"It had been good, Wallace."

He pulled back as if his face had been slapped and stared at her, looking like she had shot his heart into a million pieces.

"Goodnight Rory," he managed to get out and hurriedly left her room.

She hated herself, but there was nothing she could give him. She might have loved him, but whatever feeling she might have had for him was nothing compared to the emotion that she was feeling as she held the three letters in her hands.

Sitting on her bed, Rory opened the letter one by one.

She was going home.

It was a long time coming.

**A/N: **So, how was it? Enjoyed it? Hated it? Well I won't know unless _you _tell me, so go on, and click those review buttons. I've noticed that there are a few of you out there who had put my story on alert notice, but did not review it… well, why don't you? I'll be more than happy if you pop in to say something about the story. Not that I don't appreciate you putting it on alert, but it'll be even better if I know what you guys think. So, make this writer even happier:)

It looks like the link is not coming up here, so look for it at my profile page okay? I'll put it up there instead.


	3. Memoirs of Dodger

**A/N: **Hello ya'll! Here's another one, and again, thank you to all of you who have reviewed. Keep 'em coming guys!

**Those-aren't-my-lucky-charmsxX: **Sophies is Rory's and Logan's _ship _name, whilst Narc is Rory's and Dean's. Javajunkie is for Lorelai and Luke and the other _ship _name that I know is BalconyBuddies and that's for Lorelai and Chris. Hope you found this helpful! )

So enjoy guys! It gets more interesting after this chapter, I think, I hope. :)

R&R!

**STAND STILL, LOOK PRETTY  
CHAPTER 3  
MEMOIRS OF DODGER**

To the untrained eye, it would seem that Lorelai Gilmore was sitting idly on the porch of her house, calmly sipping a glass of lemonade. She wore a white summer dress with blue flowers adorning the piece, the same shade of blue as the paneling of her house. Her hair was straight today instead of her usual curly look, and she sipped her lemonade absently. Her legs were neatly crossed and she was tapping the edge of her chair almost obsessively.

To the _trained _eye, this was nothing but a façade.

Luke Danes pulled over into the driveway, eyeing his wife as he exited his truck. He was worried that she was worried, but he also worried what his wife was worrying. He grabbed the paper bag that contained food from his diner from the other seat and made his way to the chair where Lorelai was sitting.

He placed the paper bag gently on the small table before them, in between the jug of lemonade and the bowl full of apples and turned to face his passively distraught wife.

She met his eyes, stare for stare; brilliant blue meeting gleaming green.

"I know what you're going to say Luke," Lorelai said immediately. "I know but I don't want to hear it. Something's wrong. She would not have stopped sending me emails if something was not wrong. She's not busy; she has never been too busy to stop replying."

"Lorelai," he started to say.

"No, no," Lorelai interrupted, shaking her head while doing so. "God, whatever's happening there should be on the news, _breaking _news, whatever show is on should be cut off for the news, for _this _news. Don't they know who Rory is over there? She's special, if anything happened to her, it should be on the news… it _should _be on the news."

Luke held Lorelai's hand as she continued her anxious ranting, tightening his grip as he felt his wife's fear seeping into his own, increasing his worries by tenfold. It had been two days since Rory replied their last email and while that might be a short period of absence for some, it was not to this household. He felt just as worried as any father would; he had always thought of Rory as his daughter, heck the whole town did too, and he knew that this agonizing concern came from the deepest part of his heart.

"Maybe she lost her internet connection," he said softly. "And that she had to leave the premises quickly."

"_Why, _Luke? Why did she lose it? What happened? What the hell happened over there?"

"If I knew I would gladly tell you, but all this stress is not good for the baby Lorelai, let me do the stressing for the both of us."

That little reminder helped her to calm down a bit. Just a bit. But it was good enough for the time being.

He did feel that he was stressed enough for two. Chilling scenarios played in his mind, occupying his every thought, that he did not notice the taxi pulling up in front of the house.

"Oh my God, RORY!"

Lorelai broke free from his grip and ran out to meet her twenty-six year old daughter who smiled broadly and screamed happily as she ran towards her mum.

A feeling of deep relief washed over Luke and he just sat there on the porch, watching, full of glad, a mother and a daughter reunite after three years of being apart.

Once he had gathered himself together again, Luke came down from the porch and hugged his step daughter who laughed when she saw the tears of happiness in his eyes.

"Oh Luke, you big ol' softie," she murmured as her own tears began to overwhelm her.

Kissing her forehead, Luke wiped his eyes and went off to grab her luggage which the cab driver had finally unloaded. He paid the necessary fare and started lifting the bags into the house.

Rory and Lorelai waited until he reached them, before they too, made their way inside.

It had been a long while since the Gilmore house felt complete. And as Luke walked in right after them, the house truly did feel whole.

* * *

Rory cheerfully strolled around Stars Hollow in the morning sun, stopping every now and then to talk to old friends who had welcomed her back delightedly with opened arms. She had been back in Stars Hollow for over two weeks now and had made her rounds at least twice, not mentioning the numerous parties that her mother had thrown in her honor. 

The reason why Rory had not emailed her mother was because the day after she was told she could return back home… was so hectic, that she did not get a chance to type a quick email to let her mother know that she would be home soon. She knew that she had caused her mum a lot of trouble by worrying over her and she had apologized profusely ever since she got home. But Lorelai had brushed it off, elated with the fact that Rory was finally home, was finally with _her_ again. And Rory simply felt blissful.

She had caught up with everyone and was sure that she had not missed out on anybody. Kwan and Steve had greeted her enthusiastically, fascinated by her innate understanding of little boys, and by the end of the week, they had grown to love her and had given her a piece of paper with scribbles of colourful lines that they both had worked on together.

Lane told her it was their way of saying that she had pleased them and Rory, knowing that she had been accepted and deemed worthy by the two four year old boys, cherished the drawing very much. With Lane she had talked about everything, she filling Lane in with all the details of the gruesome yet satisfying work of being a journalist, and Lane, in turn, telling her how it was like to be a housewife with naughty twin boys who only decide to listen to her every once in a blue moon.

She had visited Sookie's house where she was stuffed silly with many different types of cookies that Rory was sure she was finally sick of, of any type of cookies for that matter. Davey, Martha and Jamie all had different preferences and Sookie, being the great chef/mother that she was, catered to all their food fetishes. Jackson welcomed her back with no little tears, same with Sookie, and they had invited her and her mother and Luke almost every night for dinner ever since Rory made her presence known.

All the others, Rory met too. She also had driven to Hartford where she stayed a few nights at her grandparents in order to make up for lost times. She never realized how much she had missed the dinner at their house that the first night there, she had had more than two helpings. Her grandma and grandpa, just like her mother, had followed her every step during the three years and had video tapes saved of her from all the appearances that she had made.

They watched them together, her grandma ranting about how Rory always scared her out of her mind, but at the same time, proud that Rory was where she was now and her grandpa just could not say it enough.

Rory loved being back home and she enjoyed every moment of it.

But it wasn't long before those three letters came back to haunt her. As Rory walked along the busy street of Stars Hollow, Rory remembered what each men had said to her. They had all seen her report the news during the time of an intense major violent political protest when she was in the Middle-East many months ago and had all expressed their worries in the beginning of their letters. What the rest said though, very much differed. And Rory knew that she had to go meet them one by one.

Her first choice was Jess. She kept on telling herself that she had made the choice purely based on practicality. The address on the back of the letter told her that he still lived in Philadelphia and that was the closest to where she was compared to where Dean and Logan were. And even though her mind was telling her that this was basically the reason why she had chosen Jess first, her heart was telling her a different story.

The thought of Jess, stopped her heart. And as Rory entered Andrew's bookstore to buy a book for some light reading, she was now sure beyond a shadow of a doubt that Jess definitely had to be the first; things between them felt unfinished and it was about time that they both cleared the air. What they had been, what they could be now… those were the questions that Rory needed answered.

No matter how hard she told herself that she was over Jess, things between them were never really over.

"_It is what it is, you, me."_

Smiling at Andrew and all the while trying to push that sudden memory out of her mind, Rory made her way to the shelves, searching with her eyes for an interesting title.

She and Jess; something had always come in between. That was what he had thought, and for a long time, she did too. But now that they were older and that everything in their lives seemed right, Rory was willing to see whether without that theory, something could really happen between them, that the reason for them not working out many years ago was truthfully because something always got in the way, that it wasn't just them subconsciously knowing that they were not meant to be.

Scanning the shelves, Rory contemplated a classic. Her cell phone rang which at first, she very much wanted to ignore, but when she saw that it was from her mum, she quickly picked it up.

"Hey mum," Rory said to the mouth piece, half-distracted.

"Hello Rory, my sweet, my love, my darling. Where ever in the world are you?" Lorelai said in that weird accent that she had always used whenever she was being foolish.

"I'm at the bookstore; do you want me to get you something while I'm out?"

"Oh I thought you'd never ask," Lorelai replied, her voice becoming hers again. "I need you go to Doose's and-,"

As Rory listened to what her mother was saying, she saw a title that tugged at her memory. _**Memoirs of Dodger. **_Rory stared hard at it, at first not seeing the name that was screaming at her face. Once her eyes made out the name of the author, her eyes widened in shock and her rosy lips parted a little.

"Rory, Rory?? Earth to Rory…!"

Speech seemed lost to her. Everything in the world disappeared. It was just her and the little black book in front of her.

Dodger. Him. _Her._

A memory came rushing back into her, a memory that she had blocked out of her life for years.

"_You bought a copy? I told you I'd lend you mine."_

"_It is yours."_

"_You stole my book."_

"_Nope, borrowed it."_

"_Okay, that's not called a trick, that's called a felony."_

"_I just wanted to put some notes in the margins for you."_

"_What? You've read this before."_

"_About forty times."_

"_I thought you said you didn't read much."_

"_Well, what is much? Goodnight Rory."_

"_Goodnight Dodger."_

"_Dodger?"_

"_Figure it out."_

"_Oliver Twist."_

Her hand shook as she took the book out of the shelf, seeing now that there were many copies of it behind the one that she had taken. _**A book by Jess Mariano.**_

Slowly, Rory opened the first chapter and read the first few lines.

_She was not that girl anymore, the girl that had named me, the girl that had changed me, and the girl that had saved me. She became everything that she hated. And she didn't even know it. _

Dumbstruck, Rory stared at the words uncomprehending.

When understanding finally dawned on her, her shock was soon replaced by anger.

She heatedly closed the book and roughly threw it back into the shelf. Storming out of the bookstore, Rory quickly changed her mind. She was not going to see Jess first, oh no, not for a long time.

She was furious, furious that she had fantasized what they both could now be, when all along, it was never meant to happen. She was angry at herself and livid with Jess.

"Screw you Jess," she muttered under her breath. "_Screw you Dodger_."

**A/N: **The link for the picture for this chapter can be found on my profile page, as usual. I hope you guys like it. Now click those review buttons. _Please _review. It motivates me… _you _motivate me!

Till next time

Hint: A letter will be opened for you to read :).


	4. Dean Forrester Far Away

**A/N: **SO, another week has gone by… which means… a brand new chapter! But I'm afraid to say that the next chapters or so might take a bit longer as I will be starting college in the near future. But, keep those reviews coming ey? It'll make me write a tad faster. :).

**Those-arent-my-lucky-charmsxX: **I am glad that you're enjoying my story very much. It's very flattering, I tell you. :). 'Ships' are relation_ships. _Just a shorter term for them, and I guess it's a pun when you say that _that ship _has sailed away when a relationship is dunzo. I think Literati means a group of intellectual people… people who are well read? And well, as we all know, Jess and Rory are extremely well read and so I believe that's where the name comes from. :). Hmm? Oo I have a feeling that you'll be seeing Jess in the near future :)

**PinkPunk94: **I believe I wrote 'She was not _that_ girl anymore' right:) which means that Rory was not the same girl anymore… the girl that had changed him. So in other words, she changed. 'The girl that had named me,' I guess your take on it is right too… she was the girl that named him to be what he was… who he really is. And the rest of them, your takes on them are spot on! -

And many, many, MANY thanks to all those who reviewed! They all make my day, believe me. So please, please, PLEASE review this after you read it? I assure you they are greatly appreciated.

R&R!

* * *

**STAND STILL, LOOK PRETTY  
Chapter 4  
Dean Forrester (Far Away)**

_Rory, _

_I actually don't know how to begin this letter; should I say for? Or dear? Or you know, something… I don't know where we stand… I… we, we didn't end right…_ I_ didn't end us right, and because of that, I don't know how I should be towards you. So I'm sorry if I come across kinda rude, believe me it's unintentional. _

_So I saw you on TV the other day. I'm not ashamed to say that I was afraid or that my heart cringed when I saw you standing in the middle of that… total chaos… I hope you're okay over there, and I hope this letter will reach you. You better _really _be taking care of yourself. You cannot let your guard down just even a bit where you are. _

_Rory, basically what I'm trying to say is… don't die. _

_Well, anyway, despite my very genuine concerns for your safety, there are other things that I want to say to you. _

_I screwed up. I screwed _us_ up. I shouldn't have left you, I… I shouldn't have. You were… _are _everything to me. It sucks that it took me this long to figure that out. I'm not… well, this letter is not a plea from me for you to come back. I'm not that much of an idiot. Believe me, I know I'm so not worthy anymore. I ended up so far from where you've ended up, and I really appreciate you believing in me those years ago, even though now, I'm a living proof that your beliefs and faiths were sadly misplaced. I just wanted you to know that I loved you very much, and that I still do, and that I miss you every single day. I want you to know that wherever you are, no matter what happens there's always someone who's thinking of you, who wishes that he hadn't let you go. _

_Now that that is all said and done, I want you to forget it. I mean, don't dwell on it. I really don't expect anything in return. I assume you must have someone. And I don't mean to intrude or ruin or break your relationship. I just wanted you to know. _

_I made a mistake. I regret it, but I'm living with it. Be happy Rory, I hope you are. I wish you all the best. You deserve everything good. _

_And I'm so proud of you._

_Always,_

_Dean. _

Clutching the letter in her hand, Rory stared through her car window at the tall boy laboring on the construction site. He wore a white wife beater, his muscles all tensed up as he moved the heavy load of cement into the inner building which was not yet complete. She still could make out his shape amidst the other sweating workers, talking to a fat man who wore a plaid shirt. All of them had yellow hard hats perched on their heads, and they walked about the site with a sense of purpose, each man knowing what they were supposed to do.

It was a normal sight for Rory, men working as construction workers, if only Dean was not one of them.

He walked out again, taking off his hat as he did so. The sun came down, beating mercilessly on the messy site and men raised their elbows to wipe the sweat from their dirty faces. Dean did too and leaned down to take a drink of water.

Rory saw the same fat man calling Dean's name from inside the half-building; she could even hear him faintly. Dean yelled a reply, and soon made his way inside again, this time disappearing from Rory's purview altogether.

Taking a deep breath, Rory reread the letter that she was holding, crumpled now that she had read it numerous times.

He hadn't asked her to come down to Chicago; he had said so in the letter. Only one of the letters had asked her to but those words screamed at her, giving her no choice but to come anyway. No matter what had happened between them, Dean would always be a part of her, and she owed it to herself to come down and see how he was doing.

Not so good, apparently. She had thought just as much after she had read the letter.

She had stayed for a couple more days in Stars Hollow after she had found that wretched book that Jess had wrote. She had shown her mum all three of the letters, and though Lorelai had objected to her decision, she had let Rory go anyhow, trusting her to do the right thing. Her goodbyes had been filled with tears, but also with a promise that she would be back soon, that she wouldn't go out of the country again without coming back.

And that was how she found herself, sitting in the front seat of her car, listening to some Snow Patrol, as she contemplated how best to approach Dean.

Rory had gotten hold of his phone number from the directory and had called his house early that morning. It had been answered by a female, slurring her words as if she was drunk. Rory had asked her for Dean, and for a few seconds, the woman didn't answer; all Rory could hear was her heavy breathing through the receiver. Then, all of a sudden, she had answered Rory, loudly and proudly as she narrated to Rory where Dean was and how he had gone there that morning.

Stupefied, Rory had said her thanks and had gladly turned off the phone. After asking for directions more than once, she finally found where he was working, and had been sitting there all morning watching him from a far.

She had almost gotten out of the car several times, but had always ended up staying in. After her long car ride, she still hadn't figured out a way as to how to approach and talk to him, Dean, her first love. She had pondered over it and even created scenarios in her mind, but she didn't know that she would be coming to _this _Dean; a construction worker with a bimbo in his home.

Rory was just about to give up and drive away when Dean came out of the half-building again, this time his eyes wondering over to her car. Unmoving, Rory stared at him, unable to tear her eyes from his, which had met hers with pure astonishment.

Rory quickly turned the keys, her car came to life. Dean dropped his hard hat, and started to run towards her. She gripped her steering wheel, her right hand on the stick. He was closer, and she could hear him indistinctly calling her name. She got ready to shift her stick, and to push her gas. He was suddenly already there, standing right in front of her.

"Rory," he called out, softer than before, but this time she could hear him.

She heard the longing in his voice and felt the hopeful expectation that he had, now that she was there. His eyes said it as he gazed intently into hers.

Weakly, Rory took her hand off her steering wheel and turned the engine off.

Dean was standing in front of her, older and exhausted. His hair was longer and he had a faint beard beautifying his face. Her heart was beating faster than normal and Rory slowly got out of her car.

She stood, her hands on her opened car door, just looking at him.

He was the first to break the silence.

He smiled at her, oh that boyish smile that she had loved, and came over to her, sweeping her with his strong arms into a warm embrace, lifting her a few inches off the ground.

"Rory," he breathed.

Speechless, Rory felt awkward. She uncomfortably patted his back and gawkily returned his embrace.

Dean, all wrapped up in his happiness, didn't notice this strange reaction on her part and placed her back gently on the ground.

"Oh my God, I can't believe you're here."

Rory awkwardly laughed. "Yeah, me neither."

He laughed a bit, eager as he wiped his hands on his dark pants. He turned to look at the site and quickly turned back to Rory.

"You're here."

"I'm here."

Silence again. Rory could not understand how words failed her, how it could _ever_ fail her.

"Are you on your break?" She asked.

"Sorta. I don't know actually, maybe."

"You want to go somewhere else? It's rather hot."

Looking back at the construction site again, Dean shrugged.

"Sure, they probably won't even miss me."

They both entered Rory's car, a keen Dean and a cautious Rory. Once settled inside, Rory turned on her car, turned on her CD player and in a matter of seconds were already on the road.

"Snow Patrol," Dean said smiling. "Finally, some music I actually listen to."

"You've got to move with the times," Rory answered. "Their lyrics are so meaningful and so deep, that listening to them does not mean that I-,"

"Hey, hey," Dean interjected. "You don't have to justify your preferences to me, Rory."

"Oh."

Dean laughed, just like old times.

"So where should we go?" Rory asked, realizing that she did not know her way around there.

"I'm in the mood for Starbucks, do you mind going to Starbucks?"

"No, not at all… I'm in the mood for some caramel frappucino myself."

Laughing again, Dean gave her clear instructions, pointing to places where she had to turn. Out of the corner her eye, Rory watched him; he was so happy being there with her, so hopeful… this was Dean… the _real _Dean, not the dejected man that she had been watching all morning. And this was the man that Rory very much intended to leave behind before she drove away to her next destination.

"Here we are," Dean said.

Rory parked ineptly; she had never been much of a parker. Together, they exited the car and made their way into the welcoming Starbucks.

Rory badly wanted to order for herself, but Dean did not let her, insisting that he paid for the both of them. She didn't want him spending money on petty things like treating her to a cup of Starbucks, but short of creating a scene, she would not be able to convince him. Defeated, Rory went to sit on one of the green couches by the window, waiting and watching.

He came back, all smiling, with two cups of caramel frappucinos, placing one neatly in front of her. He inserted a straw into his and began drinking it, all the while never taking his eyes off her. Rory drank a bit, not able to meet his passionate eyes.

"Rory."

Rory turned and looked at him, now that he had called her name.

"I'm really glad you're here."

Rory decided not to beat around the bush, and get right into the matter at hand.

"Dean, I came because I was worried about you, and it looks like my concerns are thoroughly justified."

"What do you mean?" Dean asked, his guard beginning to come up.

"You're doing construction work?! Just like you did when you were back with Lindsay?! We both know that you're too good for this… that you can do so much better. You have a drunk… female… companion or whatever in your house, so early in the morning, which, theoretically, must be your girlfriend, who's already getting drunk in the early hours, almost unable to recall the man who owned the house that she was in… this… this is not good Dean, you need to turn your life around."

"And how am I supposed to do that Rory?!" Dean replied, quite forcefully; his defenses all up now. "You have no right to judge who I am… is that all you wanted to do, huh Rory? Come all the way down to Chicago, only to judge what I've become? Not everyone is like you okay? Not everyone went to an Ivy League school, or heck, not everyone finished college! Not everyone had a life plan, knowing what they wanted to pursue ever since they were small. Some of just have to make do with what life throw at us!"

"You didn't finish college?" Rory asked, stunned.

"No…" Dean answered, looking away from her as he did so. "After you left, I just didn't see the point. You were the only one who had ever believed in me, in what I can do, and without you there encouraging me… I just… didn't see the point. So I moved out here, to Chicago, to forget everything… to forget you."

"Before _I_ left? You were the one who left me Dean! Twice, might I remind you?"

"And both times for very good reasons," Dean said quickly, turning his eyes back to her, his voice taking a sadder tone. "And both times, you left me first, although you didn't realize it. Selfishly, I regret ever leaving you Rory, but I know, that the two times I have left you, were the best gifts I have ever given you. Life sucks that way."

"Dean-,"

"Why are you here Rory?" Dean butted in, exhaustion in his voice. "Is this it?"

When Rory didn't answer him, he laughed, a bitter laugh.

"I was foolish to think you came for other reasons. We're over. It ended those years ago when I left your grandparent's house, when I watched you cry in your beautiful dress and tiara from my rearview mirror. I don't know how I expected another chance. It felt finished then, it still feels finished now. I'm sorry I sent you that letter Rory, I guess it came across to you as a plea for you to come, maybe I intended it as a plea, I don't know…

"But I meant it, Rory, everything in that letter. I love you, and I always will. You're the one girl I can't forget, the one girl who keeps me up every night. And I don't blame you for the way my life turned out… it's just life you know?"

"Dean…"

Tears blurred his vision, but he smiled anyway, standing up as he did so.

"I probably have to get back…"

"I'll take you back," Rory said quickly, getting up also.

"Nahh… I'll walk…"

Swiftly, Dean made his way out of Starbucks, leaving a dumbstruck Rory standing, staring after him, with a cup in her hands.

He was leaving her; she had to watch him walk away again. All those times that he had left her, she realized now that he had had very good reasons to. The first time, she had been falling for Jess and he had let her go so that she could be happy, the second time he had left her so she could pursue what she wanted without having him as a burden. And he was doing it all over again… _all over_ again for her.

Tears burned behind her eyelids, and without thinking, Rory ran after him, dropping her cup once she was outside onto the hard pavement, and called out his name desperately, as loud as she could.

"DEAN!" she cried out. "DEAN!!"

Dean stopped, turning with tears streaming down his face. He dared not look hopeful as she came closer, jumping into his welcoming embrace. He dared not expect anything.

"Rory?"

"I'm so sorry Dean," Rory began, crying now on his shoulder. "I'm so sorry for all the things I have put you through. I love you too, you know… don't think that I don't. You were probably the best boyfriend I have ever had. And if I could love you again, the way I did back then… I… I would… but… it's just not the same anymore. I love you Dean, but not like the way I used to. But it doesn't mean that I don't think about you or that I don't miss you or that I don't care at all, because that's not true."

Rory lifted her head from his shoulder and stared at him, looking deep into his eyes.

"I know you can be better than this, Dean. I don't know how you'll do it, but I know you can. I'm not there to encourage you, you say? Well I'm _here_ now and I'm _encouraging_ you. And no matter where I am, I'll _always _be encouraging you. You don't need me to be beside you, telling you what to do. You can do it all on your own. And despite us being separated over these years, I've never doubted you, I've never doubted what you can do, not even for a second, and I still don't doubt it now.You've got your life ahead of you… shape it according to your own will."

"I… I love you Rory," Dean said through his tears.

Smiling sadly, Rory inched her face closer to his and felt his lips on her own, tasting and exploring the familiarity and the sweetness that was once theirs and theirs alone. She felt his tears on her face, and knew that he must be feeling hers on his face too.

They both savored the moment; holding fast to it before it disappeared like they knew it would in a matter of seconds.

For in that moment, and _only _in that moment, she was his again, and he was hers.

_**I wanted, I wanted you to stay, cause I needed, I need to hear you say, I love you, I loved you all along, and I forgive you, for being away for far too long.**_

* * *

**A/N: **The link for the picture for this chapter can be found on my profile page, as usual. Hope you guys liked my take on Dean and Rory. Tell me what you think; _all _of you who have read it. Please? ).

**Far Away by Nickelback. **That's my song for the Narcs. ).

Till next time!

I LOVE you guys! Lol.


	5. Jess Mariano Stay Away

OMGSH! It has been so long… _too _long! I sincerely apologize for my delay in putting up this chapter, but things have been so hectic! My room (where I write), was taken over by a guest for a week, denying me access to my good ol' computer… I have a boyfriend now… (hahaha), and I've recently started college which always drains out a lot of my energy every time I come home (the commute takes a really big toll on me), but here it is… finally. I hope you guys have not deserted me… or lost hope. I'm still writing, I'm still active… but it'll just take a tad bit longer (a bit may be an understatement here… --")

I hope you guys feel that the wait is worth it.

Read and enjoy!

**STAND STILL, LOOK PRETTY  
Chapter 5  
Jess Mariano (Stay Away)**

_Dear Rory,_

_My, my, it has been a while hasn't it? How long ago does it seem to you, that we were at Luke's together, or that we were arguing about the countless classics that we used to read? Even the last time that you had come to see me feels like a lifetime ago…_

_I miss it._

_I'm not sure whether this letter will be warmly received by you, but I assure you, it is warmly written by me. I had just seen you on TV Rory, and you sure know how to scare the hell out of someone. But even though I was frightened out of my wits, the feeling of pride that I felt overwhelmed my deepest and I really mean _deepest _concern for you. To see you, reporting to ignorant fools like myself, the truth just as it is, made me feel so proud that I had been a friend, that I had been a part of Rory Gilmore's life._

_It's good to see you where you rightfully belong. I'm concerned, yes, but who am I to say what's too dangerous for you? Seeing you there, feels right; you can do anything… anything Rory. _

_Where ever you are, I hope that you will take the time to reply this letter. I tried sending you an email once, but all I got was some pathetic thank you respond that I strongly urge you to change. We, mere mortals, feel cheated with that automatic response. I don't know whether you were the one who originally set what that email would say, but whatever the case is, you really need to change it. All in all, I realized that the email address that I had gotten from your site is not your personal one. That's why I resorted to writing you a hand-written letter, it's more personal isn't it? It feels it. _

_Don't misunderstand my purpose of writing you this _personal _letter. I like to think that after all that had happened between us, that we're still friends. I understand you, you understand me. All the facts point to the fact that we should be best friends._

_Relax, I'm kidding, that's not what I expect or want. It would be nice, sure, but being just friends first seems like the perfect first step. _

_You're the first person who had ever _got _me Rory. And who knows, I might be the first for you too, with the exception of your mother of course._

_I just want to start what died when _we _died those years ago; our friendship. _

_Which raises the question of when were we ever really friends? Okay, I'm beginning to confuse myself, so I'm going to end it here. _

_Let's be friends, _real _friends Rory; you know, the one who writes and talks to each other? The one who criticizes the other for their own good? You know that we'd be good at it. _

_You and I, we were made for that. _

_ Sincerely,  
Jess M._

To Rory, the letter that Jess had written her differed tremendously to the book that he had written. In one, he had asked her for the beginning of what she knew would be an amazing friendship, but in the other, he had ruthlessly described her as _nothing_, ignorant to the fact that she had changed for the worse.

To say that she was angry was the biggest understatement in the world. Rory was not mad, she was _enraged. _

She didn't know how she came to be sitting in a book/café somewhere in Philadelphia. She had his **Memoirs of Dodger **on the table before her, a new copy that she had purchased a couple of hours ago, and had been staring at the front cover while drinking countless cups of coffee for the better part of the afternoon.

She couldn't bear to open the book; his words were sharp, his pen a weapon. She had known that Jess could do great things if he only puts his mind to it, but she didn't know that despite being his muse, she was also his target, destined to be used so unjustly by him.

Rory knew exactly who Jess Mariano was but this book that she had lying in front of her, begged to differ.

Leaving Dean behind was hard, but not as hard as she thought it would be. She had made her peace with him, had told him all that she could say and offer, and it was all up to him now to make do with what he had.

He would always mean something to her, she had made sure that he knew that, but to be what they had been back when they were sixteen was impossible. Deep down she had known it, and now he knew too.

Once Rory was back on the road, she had set her mind to go to California… to Logan. After all, he had practically begged her to come. But Philadelphia kept on pulling her, and the many bookstores that she had passed, all with displays of Jess's hit, were insensitively tugging her to Philly.

And so, there she was. She came, she was there. But she didn't know what the hell she was supposed to do next.

Draining what Rory thought was her fifth cup of coffee, she knew that she was not up to facing him just yet. She could not, not with all this rage fuming within her. She had to meet him calmly, collected, not ready to burst with anger and pain at any given second. But judging from her present condition, she did not know how long it would be before her fury would simmer down.

She had to decide quickly on what to do. Logan was desperate and was waiting for her, waiting for her answer. But yet, she was here, in Philadelphia, wasting time in pondering whether she should meet Jess or whether she should leave without giving him a chance to justify his actions.

She touched his book softly, trying with all her might to understand the mind that she used to know so well, but failed to reach a conclusion.

She was ashamed to have to finally admit, that maybe she didn't know Jess Mariano as well as she thought she did.

It was a discomforting thought.

Standing up to get, yet again, another refill, Rory failed to see the man who had entered the cozy coffee shop. As she went to the counter to be assisted, he made his way to the corner of the charming coffee place and sat down on the snug emerald sofa where he was immediately engaged in a conversation by the woman sitting across from him. He was oblivious to her presence and she, to him and without giving them a glance, Rory made her way back to her chair by the window where she sat down once more, immersed in her own thoughts.

For a quarter of an hour, they all did just that. Rory, sitting, staring, with her back to them, pondering… and he, occupied and engaged in the lively discussion with the blonde-haired woman across from him, did not notice the solitary figure of the woman that he had once knew so well, sitting by the window.

Finally, as he ordered himself a cup of coffee from the waitress who was cleaning a table near him, Rory dared to open the book… the _end _part of the book.

She read the last paragraph; it was a song that she recognized.

_I don't want to hurt you,  
I don't want to make you sway.  
Like I know I've done before,  
I will not do it anymore._

That's it. And she closed it again abruptly. Was this some sick apology that he wrote at the end to make all the stuff that he had written, okay? Did he know that his words would surely hurt her, that it would make her _sway_? And did he think that the chorus of a song by The Perishers would suffice to make her feel better? He _knew _that it would hurt her beyond belief, but he wrote it anyway, thinking that the end would be enough for her to understand, for her to _forgive_.

Oh Jess Mariano was more twisted than she had initially thought.

"No, _this _is decaf."

As his voice reached her ears, Rory, without thinking, turned in her seat to look at the source of the sound.

And there _he_ was.

Handsome in his casual suit, he sat, slouching elegantly on the sofa with one leg perched on top of the other, breathtaking in every way. His hair was short, his face was fresh and his eyes were dark pools of mystery. He gave his round cup of coffee back to the waitress and smiled at the woman in front of him.

Rory wanted to turn away, but she could not; not back then, not now, not _ever. _

Oh after everything, she _still _loved him.

Taken aback by the intensity of her own feelings, Rory did not take notice of the group of people sitting nearby, pointing at her and talking excitedly amongst themselves.

Unaware, a girl of about sixteen, made her way to Rory's table, gripping hard on the brown-coloured tissue in her hands.

"Urm, Miss Gilmore?"

Caught by surprise, Rory jumped, bumping her coffee table, causing her coffee cup to fall, unbalanced by the unexpected force. The mug rolled off the table, spilling its brown content on the table and on the floor, breaking with a loud sound as it met the ground.

"Oh! I am _so _sorry Miss Gilmore!" said the now pale-faced girl, kneeling down to clean up the mess, as Rory, not daring to look back, joined the girl in picking up the broken pieces.

The waitress on duty came to help, but Rory did not stop picking them up.

"It's okay," Rory said to the girl while her face was turning red. "Really, it is, mind the glass now, here, I'll do it. Careful…you might hurt yourself."

The waitress was making a fuss about her helping, but Rory didn't care. She continued to place the glass on the dustpan that the waitress had brought out and was surprised when a strong, warm hand held her right hand in mid air.

She didn't need to turn to know whose hand it was. Not looking back, she stood up, gently guided and supported by his hand. He kneeled down in her place and quietly began to clean the broken shards of glass by himself.

"Miss Gilmore?"

Looking up, Rory saw the girl who had surprised her in the first place. Lips trembling, her eyes were wide as she stared at her in a mixture of wonderment and embarrassment, scared and yet, awed. She was holding another tissue and she edged it closer to Rory.

"May… may I?"

Understanding what the girl wanted, Rory smiled kindly at her, and took a pen out of her pocket. She wrote a little message for the girl, and signed the end of it with her signature.

"Take it easy," Rory said gently as she handed back the tissue.

Full of gratitude, the girl said thanks to Rory and returned to her table, turning every few seconds to look back at her.

It was only when he had stood up that Rory realized that the mess had been cleared away. She took the time he took to say something to the blonde woman who had stood up when she saw him kneeling down to help Rory, to quickly put her, or rather, _his_ book into her handbag.

When he turned to her again, her handbag along with the novel, was hanging from her shoulder.

"Hey stranger," he said to her. "What are you doing here? Did you come to-,"

"Work," Rory said abruptly. Seeing the unsure look on his face, she added, "I'm here for work."

His face fell. "Right, of course you are."

They stood in an awkward silence for a few seconds.

"Do you have time to catch up with an old friend?" Jess asked softly.

Her refusal was on the tip of her tongue, but the answer that came out of her lips was the total opposite.

"I think I can fit you in," she said to him.

Nodding, he asked whether she was up for walking a few blocks to his apartment. She was. Rory waited outside while Jess said his goodbye to the woman inside and soon joined her and together, they made their way to his home.

There were feeble attempts on both parts to start a conversation, but they failed miserably. She on one hand was overwhelmed by her old feelings which had resurfaced and by the anger that she was at hard, keeping in check. And he on the other hand was discouraged by the coldness with which she addressed him.

It started to rain. Grabbing her hand, Jess pulled her to a run as they made a turn and in a matter of minutes, they found themselves drenched, in Jess's spacious apartment.

He disappeared into a room, while Rory was left idle to her own musings as she took his apartment in. It was neat. His CDs were packed neatly too, and Rory saw a copy of Snow Patrol's album on top of his TV cabinet. But as Rory poked her head into the study where Jess must spend all his time writing in, Rory realized that old habits die hard. It was organized in a disorganized chaos. To any other person, it might seem like a horrible mess, but to _her_, this was not so. She had no difficulty in discerning how things were placed, and was not baffled with the question of how Jess could possibly do his work in such a climate. She knew.

"Here," she heard him say behind her.

Turning, Rory was just in time to catch a red towel from him while he was drying his hair with another.

Murmuring her thanks, Rory walked out of the study, past him, drying herself as she made her way back to neat part of his apartment.

Rory dropped her handbag on the carpeted floor, saw part of the novel sticking out from it, and felt her full anger returning to her.

"Would you like a drink, Rory?" He asked.

She didn't answer him.

"Rory?"

"I lied, OK?" Rory blurted out, turning to face him.

"Lied about what?" Jess asked, confused.

"I didn't come here for work! I came here for you!"

Not knowing whether to smile or not, Jess edged closer to Rory and stopped when he saw her take a step back.

"Did I offend you, in anyway?"

Rory laughed shrilly.

"Did you _offend _me?? Did you… did _you_…?" She laughed sarcastically. "You have the nerve!"

Feeling irritated, Jess scowled. He had no idea what she was talking about, and he felt annoyed by her actions which was not expected and definitely uncalled for.

"Get it out, will you?" Jess snapped.

Rory leaned down to take the book out of her bag and shook it in front of him.

"Explain this Jess! Explain it!!"

He recognized the book, but did not fully understand what she wanted from him. He stared at her, uncomprehending.

Irritated by his irksome reaction, Rory threw the book at him, which he caught, hard across his chest.

"What the-,"

"_She was not that girl anymore, the girl that had named me, the girl that had changed me, and the girl that had saved me. She became everything that she hated. And she didn't even know it," _Rory obnoxiously recited. "You wrote to me Jess! Asking to start our friendship again, which I really wanted at the time, but then, I come home to _this_! To _that_!"

Rory pointed accusingly at the book in his hands.

Feeling angry himself, Jess yelled back at her.

"I'm sorry, but did you _even _read the _whole _thing?? Or did you just read a bit, and thought you knew everything to it? _Come on_ Rory, that's just _insane_!"

"_Why_ should I read the whole thing?! The first few lines already killed me! I don't need to torture myself by reading the whole damn thing! I thought I knew you Jess, I really thought I did. But clearly, I was mistaken!"

"Damn it, Rory! Read the _whole _thing!"

"I can't!"

Fighting back the urge to cry Rory grabbed her handbag and was about to leave when Jess, dropping the book onto the floor, grabbed her hand, not roughly, but firmly, pulling her back.

"Don't," he said. "Don't you _dare._"

"Let me go Jess, let me go _now._"

"I did not ask you to come here, Rory," Jess said, ignoring what she just had said. "I asked you to just _write_ back. Do you know why I didn't ask you to come here, Rory? Do you?"

When she didn't answer him, he continued on.

"I wasn't ready. I was ready to _talk_ to you again, but I was not ready to _see_ you. I could not face the fact that you will leave again, like I know you would. I don't want to see you, if at the end of it you are going to walk out of the door _again. _I can't stand by and let history repeat itself.

"You can't keep coming in and out of my life forever Rory. It's not fair to me, and I don't deserve it. I _need _you to make a choice. I wanted that if you had decided to come, you would have come to _stay_. If today, you walk out of that door, that'll be it. Once you leave, I expect you to stay away from me for good. I can't keep putting myself through this… and as long as you keep on popping up into my life for a temporary stop, I will never get over it. So today, I'm making a stand. If you stay, I want all of you, if you go away… _stay _away.

He let her hand go but she didn't move. She cried soundlessly, watching him battling his own silent agony. She could not make that hard of a decision on the spot. He had to understand.

"Right now, I can't."

Rory stepped back towards the door, his face hardening with every step she took.

"I _mean _it, Rory, if you walk out of that door, then I'm done. I can't keep setting myself up for this; if you leave… _leave."_

She didn't know what to do. Despite everything, she still loved him and he knew. But she couldn't decide now, not yet.

Crying, Rory shook her head, finding the doorknob with her right hand.

His face hardened with anguish.

She turned the knob. His face was cold.

"Goodbye Rory," he said tonelessly.

She looked up for one last look of him. She met his eyes. She left.

Jess stared at his door; his face was set as if it was carved out of stone. As reality dawned on him… as he felt the full impact of her choice to leave… of her absence, his hard face slipped, replaced by the old visage that had once been his face back when he was a rebel teenager… the image perfection of a lost, lonely and hurting boy who just needed to be understood, accepted… and _loved. _

He sank down on to the ground, remembering Rory's refusal when he went after her at Yale. Was history bound to repeat itself? Must one or the other _always_ leave?

Jess covered his face with his hands, regretting all the things that he had said to her.

Where the hell did he get the nerve to tell her to _stay away_?

_**Separate yourself from what compels you to relinquish us. Push your way on to me. Entirely. Stay away from me. Stay away from me now. Unless you're gonna see, unless you're gonna see me out. **_

_**No I can't dance, unless it's slow and sad. To a song that's far less obvious. You're using me, do it slowly, make it last until I have to go.**_

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So, there you have it. The Jess chapter. Lol. I'm sorry to say that I don't have a photoshop picture for this one… yet… I don't know. But it's just… everything is so hectic, so I'm just going to concentrate on putting up the chapters instead of the pictures. Deal:). So… review! Let me know that you guys have not deserted me! That way, I'll have a reason to continue on writing.

Love yas!


	6. Logan Huntzberger Come On

So here we are again; a brand new day, a brand new chapter. Thank you so much to all of you who have taken the time to review the previous chapter, they kept me going, I tell you.

**Lit Lover: **Sorry to disappoint you, but the picture will take a tad bit longer for me to make and post. Currently I'm concentrating with getting the chapters done, but I'll try my best to get it done as soon as possible. Hold on and don't lose hope. :) .

**Poison-Girl-UK:**I'm sorry that you don't like Snow Patrol. No offense taken, by the way. But the reason why they are listening to them is because of the lyrics, I don't know whether you'll feel the same with me regarding this, but I find that Snow Patrol lyrics are very deep, nicely written, and gives a Literati vibe. :)

**Georgia Linderski & Regan: **There were two songs used in the previous chapter; Stay Away by the Honorary Title and Sway by the Perishers. Download them, they're great. :).

My two week holiday is up (tear) and I'll be having midterms in about two weeks, so expect another chapter not this month, but hopefully the next.

Read on, my sweet, sweet readers.

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**STAND STILL, LOOK PRETTY**

**Chapter 6**

**Logan Huntzberger (Come On)**

_Rory,_

_For a long time I've been wanting to write to you; to see how you were, to know where you are, to find out whether you are lost as I am. I've been entertaining thoughts of you and me; imagining what it would have been like if you had only said yes. I have been like that, Rory, I have been _lost_. And I had half-hoped, and I know it is very bad to wish this kind of ill, especially to someone who you claim to care about, but I had hoped that you have been lost too. But I know you haven't; ever since you made your decision to say no, you've never faltered. And while that is not good news for me, I admire that of you. Maybe you had regretted, a little, but you went on with your life. While me? I know I gave you an ultimatum, all or nothing it was, but I regretted it terribly. When I finally realized that I had made a tremendous mistake, I found out that you had left. And just like that, you were completely out of my life. Ever since then, I had worked hard to be where I am now. I had tried, with all my might to forget you and to be, at least a little, like you. I've been following your every move; I've been watching you through a glass window. You had always stood still in that unbelievable chaos, doing your job, looking gorgeous as hell. And not once have I ever seen in your face, a trace of regret for the old life that you had left in order to pursue your dreams. And seeing that level of dedication in you, I wanted it for myself; to move on and forget, and be what I know you had believed I could be. And, I guess I did for a while; I went on, denying with every fiber of my soul, that I needed you. I must admit, I have been doing that, not comprehending until today that I have been lost, living my life robotically and systematically. I'm at a major point in my life Rory, a crossroad. And, I don't know what to do, especially after seeing you last night on TV. I need you more than ever Rory, I need your help. I need you to come here to California, as soon as you can. You might be engaged in something else, I know. But please, take me into consideration. I know I have no right to ask this of you, and I sound selfish, I am well aware of that, but if you had truly loved me, Rory, please come. _

_I'll be waiting._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Logan Huntzberger._

Standing by herself in front of the luxurious toilet mirror, Rory took in a very deep breath and for what seemed like the hundredth time, ran her fingers down her long, curly brown hair. She wore an exquisite yellow summer dress with her hair falling beautifully like a fan behind her bare back. The dress had been a gift from her grandmother; for sure she would have never purchased anything like it for the price that she knew her grandma must have paid. But it was definitely useful for moments like these in her life, when she needed to look the part of a rich, young woman in order to be let in, without mockery, into a restaurant such as this. She didn't care for it, but she must obey the rules of society, and society demanded her of this.

Rory, in the sense, was not poor or lacking. But ever since she had started her job, she had riveted to her old child-self, not really caring what she wore; she had always dressed for comfort, not for style. It also helped that what she found comfortable were clothes that did not look hideous on her. But she would have never chosen to wear this yellow summer dress for comfort. When she had called Logan the night before, to notify him of her sudden arrival, he had asked to meet her in this particular restaurant, where she was required to look like she belonged in a particular class of society. She had then, rummaged through her suitcase, afraid that she had not brought anything fancy. To her surprise and delight, she did. It was not _fancy,_ but simple and elegant. Her grandmother truly had taste.

Rory opened her little, black purse, pulled out her mascara and reapplied it on her eyelashes, at the same time reliving the phone call that she had with Logan the night before. She had been worried that maybe she had come too late for whatever it was that Logan needed her for, with the letter being lost in the mail and all. But she wasn't, Logan assured her of this. She was, in his words, in the nick of time. He sounded ecstatic on the phone, and it pleased her.

Rory didn't know what she wanted to come out of her visit; she didn't even know whether she wanted to be with him or not. She might have left her heart in Philly, but for the time being, she refused to believe it… for the time being… she didn't want it to be. She wanted to be able to sit in front of Logan, with an untutored heart, and gouge her feelings for him without any distraction or disadvantages. He deserved that much from her.

Their scheduled time to meet was seven p.m. It was now seven fifteen. She had arrived earlier than the appointed time; she had wanted to be able to study him as he walked in, from the comfort of the dining chair. She did not want to walk in with his eyes drinking her in from across the room, it would have unnerved her. But just like she had taken this initiative, so had Logan, though the reason behind it might differ from Rory's. She had seen him on her way in, sitting by himself in the centre of the dining room, near the soothing fountain. And _that_had unnerved her.

Because she had looked amazing in her dress, nobody questioned or barred her as she made her way, as quickly as she could to the rest room. And that was where she had been until then.

"Get a grip on yourself," she muttered under her breath as the door to the toilet opened to let in a woman and her daughter.

With her mind half-set, Rory caught the door before it closed and walked out before she could change her mind. The restaurant was full, but it wasn't noisy. A string quartet was playing a beautiful sound by the fountain, close to where she would be, where Logan was. And everybody who ate there was talking softly, as if afraid to disturb the tranquility that this restaurant seemed to provide.

She took a step forward, then another, ignoring the many eyes that turned to her in admiration. Halfway there, Logan noticed her and broke into a smile as he stood up. Rory had never known or realized how much she had missed that signature smile of his; the irresistible movement of his lips that set his eyes adorably smaller.

Oh she had missed him!

Before Rory had reached Logan, he had reached her, pulling her gently into a warm embrace that was at the same time, new and familiar. He smelt of the same aftershave that she had grown accustomed to over the three years that she had been with him and felt tears stung her eyes. For a long time, his heart was what she had called home; his embrace had been her source of comfort. All that had been taken away from her and for a long time she had felt the loss, but never the full impact. But now, here he was, hugging her in the way that he used too, and Rory finally realized the extent to which she was denied.

She squeezed him in reply to his affectionate, memorable gesture and let go before she would be overwhelmed by it all. Smiling through her blurry eyes, Rory blinked her tears away as he softly planted a kiss on her cheek.

"Hello Ace," he said, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ears.

Her cheek burned.

"Logan… it's nice to finally see you, you look well."

He motioned for her to sit down while he did the same. She placed her cell phone on the side of the table, her purse on her lap, and was comfortably sitting on the chair when the waiter arrived with their menus.

They perused through the menus for a few minutes in silence, both of them stealing glances at each other whenever they feel that the other was unaware. After the task of choosing what they wanted to eat had been done, they looked at each other and started laughing when the silence stretched on.

"We had always had something to talk about," Rory said, when their laughter had died down.

"Clearly the years have had an effect," Logan replied, smiling.

His good looks had not deteriorated over the years, but the years had in fact, worked to his great advantage. He had never been handsomer, had never been fitter! He was _the_ image perfection of a rich, intelligent, businessman.

They both noticed the looks and whispers that the other customers were giving them, clearly thinking that they make a very handsome couple. And to be sure, they did. Rory in her elegant yellow dress, Logan in his smart black suit, they were a match made in heaven! Rory, used to the attention that she sometimes received because of her job, and Logan, knowing full-well the effects that he had with women, took it all in stride, hardly giving the strangers any acknowledgement that they noticed.

They were, in other words, perfect for each other.

"How are you?" Rory asked.

"I've never been better," Logan answered. "Thank you for coming Rory."

His face turned serious.

"I'm happy to be here and to be of help."

He nodded, and for a fraction of a second, his face looked as if he were in pain. But as quickly as it had come, his face changed once more to his normal self.

"You're too kind."

Not knowing what to say in reply to that, Rory took a sip from her glass of champagne and felt her neck becoming warmer.

"How can I be of help, Logan?"

And his face changed again. This time it stayed that way.

"Did you love me, Rory?" He asked softly, not answering her question.

"You know I did," Rory replied, just as softly, just as emotionally.

Logan took a deep breath. "And do you still?"

Caught off guard, Rory gripped her glass of champagne, and looked away from Logan.

"I… I don't know," she answered.

When he didn't say anything else, Rory turned back to him and with resoluteness asked him the same.

"I've never stopped," was his steadfast answer.

"Is this what you wanted me to come here for? Did you want me to relive the past that I had worked hard to put behind me?"

He didn't answer her, but continued to stare at her. His face was constantly battling the look of pain to return to its former self… where it betrayed nothing but contentment.

"I don't know how I could have possibly ever lived this long without knowing or feeling what true love really is. I had known when I was with you, but that was so

long ago that I had forgotten what it really felt like. How could I ever have contented for what I have, when I've had you in my life, Rory? With you here, everything in my life seems wrong."

Unable to speak, Rory stared at him wide-eyed. From Dean and Jess, she had expected something like this, but not from Logan.

"You threw it all away," Rory finally got out. "You didn't give us a chance."

"And I regret it to this very day. I've made mistakes in my life Rory, but not as erroneous as the one that I had made when I had walked away from you. And I know I'll be making the biggest mistake of my life, if today, I don't ask you to stay."

Rory was saved from the need to answer him when her cell phone vibrated on their table. The name of the caller was visible to her and to Logan and when they both realized that it was Jess, the hand that Rory had lifted in order to pick it up, was suddenly grabbed by Logan's strong hand, halting her action in midair.

"Stay, Rory. I beg of you, please _stay_."

His face was twisted in agony, just like it had been when he had apologized to her for the things that he had done when he thought they were broken up.

The curiosity that Rory had felt the moment she saw Jess's name flashing on her phone soon vanished as she stared into Logan's desperate and sincere eyes.

"_Stay,_Rory."

With her hand gently guided away from her phone, Rory Gilmore knew that she was staying in California.

_**And finally the silence, looking out, looking back across the sky, trying to find a meaning, knowing that I just left it all behind, still I smell a lingering softness; where did she go? How did she go? I wanna wanna know. I wanna know that she'll be coming here to me. **_

_**Come on, without you I'll never feel the love inside of me. Come on, you know that we belong. Come on, come on, come on, come on.**_

'_**Cause each of her kisses, how my heart misses. She's coming, she's coming here to me. I'm needing… desiring to kiss her now. I'm living for her, I'm breathing for her. Singing for her fairytale.**_

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So here we are again; another end to another chapter. Tell me what you think? I personally think this ending was not as… what's the word… _touching_as the previous chapter. Do you agree? Well, do tell me. Hit that review button. (I hope that the Sophies liked it.)

Till next time!

Love ya'll.


	7. Thin Line between Love and Hate

OMGSH! It's been forever! I'm so, so, _so_sorry that it has taken me this long to post the next one up. I could give you tons of excuses, all valid might I add, but that would just be wasting time when you could actually be reading my new chapter. I hope you like it and I hope it's worth the wait. I find this chapter to be more _angsty _than the rest.

Hope you guys haven't deserted me!

Read and review!

**STAND STILL, LOOK PRETTY**

**CHAPTER 7**

**The Line between Love and Hate**

The dial tone that had filled his ears suddenly stopped, replacing itself with the infuriating, repetitive musical failure.

Had she known it was him?

Throwing the cordless phone on his sofa, he began to pace the room, averting his eyes from his front door to quench down the awful memory that continuously and unrelentingly always crept into his head, unbidden.

Jess had figured that an appropriate amount of time had passed that deemed his action to call rational; he guessed that maybe Rory didn't feel the same.

The still, hospital-white phone tauntingly tempted him on its' perch, difficultly he resisted.

He couldn't stand another second in his apartment where every part of it reminded him of her fleeting presence and while every second enticed him to call and to force his voice and pathetic excuse on her.

Had an enough amount of time passed? Jess quietly wondered as he quickly grabbed his army-green jacket from its position on the kitchen counter. Would he able to stand another cutting rejection?

The front-door, forevermore tainted and yet, beautified by the brief memory of Rory's stunning, torn and broken face, was a source of irrepressible pain for Jess. His hand burned as he turned the brazen knob; the pioneer action to liberate him from the bitter hurt in his heart that he could not manage on his own.

Shutting the door to the hell behind him, Jess donned on his jacket and stepped out of his building.

There was a slight downpour; the rain trickled down his hair and face as he exposed himself to a rather discomforting breath of fresh air, to a strange sense of freedom that he subconsciously did not want. He ignored the incredulous stare that an ignorant passerby gave him, his jacket an enough protection against the stinging drops.

The passerby, holding a purple umbrella as a shield against the downpour that was becoming harder by the second, was taken aback by the gentle ferocity of emotion on Jess's face, but he walked on without really sparing her a glance. What did she know, anyway?

The rain was usually a form of cathartic medium for him – cleansing him off his problems. But, it was not working today. Of course he didn't expect it to work this time anyhow.

Jess walked on, unsure of where his legs were taking him. His feelings were a jumble of confusion, confusing even _him._ He was having a hard time of picking one emotion from all the others, to focus, to fix, and to discard in order to move on to the next.

He would repeat this process over and over again until there was no more aching emotion in his system.

It was a difficult thing for him to do, but he'd done it before and he would do it again. Numbing the pain, yes, that was his constant solution to the beginning stages of the hurt caused by _the_Gilmore. Eventually the numbness would fade and the wound a far memory.

But then he would idiotically begin to think that he was ready for a new kind of relationship with her, that he had put all the history behind him. He would think that maybe this time, they could be friends.

Oh how bloody naïve; he couldn't bear to be just on the sidelines.

As he continued to wander aimlessly, all the while fighting an inner losing battle, Jess suddenly saw a sign in the dark, flashing lamely – Falcon. He remembered being there back in his dark days. Truth to be told though, most of the incredible parts of his book was written in that pub, all his _angsty_stuff. It had shocked him how true and unerring he could write whilst in a drunken stupor; how everything he had felt could transform accurately and stingingly on a piece of paper. What a revelation it was for him.

Feeling that there was no fitter occasion to return there than this, he made his legs carry him there; pushing the door open dejectedly once he had reached it.

The bartender's name was Lucy, blonde and in her late twenties. She had grown accustomed to Jess's brooding presence back in the day, and had felt a lost when he had stopped coming.

She was standing behind the bar when Jess entered, catering to her customers seated haphazardly around her.

When her green eyes spotted him, they narrowed, but betrayed no sense of surprise. Instead she turned her back on him, took a glass and filled it with cold beer, placing it in front of Jess just as he reached an empty chair directly in front of the counter.

He drank it without saying anything while she scrutinized his face. She sighed when Jess placed the now-empty glass hard on the bar.

"_Always_her," Lucy muttered as she turned to fill the glass once more. She was still familiar with Jess's routine, long ago that it was.

Jess said nothing as he picked up the glass again.

"Well? It's _her,_ain't it?" Lucy demanded and was surprised that it shook.

Unaware just as he were those years ago of Lucy's tender feeling towards him, he shrugged and went on with his drinking.

Knowing full well that he would never feel for her the way he felt for _her,_Lucy tucked her passion away just as she had done before and asked him the one million dollar question.

"Did she read the book?"

He paused his drinking. "No."

_Of course. _"It's a shame, it was a good book. My girlfriends loved it."

How could they not? It was a book filled with odd revelations, with hopes and regrets, with witty sentences and beautiful lyrics. The book did not _just_tell a story but rather, it _spoke_to the readers. It brought the readers to Stars Hollow, described by him in the beginning to be his personal hell, an unbearable punishment for all the wrongdoings he had done. It told the story of a boy who had lost his way, had lost all hope, only for it to be restored by an unexpected second party. But the most brilliant part of the book was how he talked about her, the way he introduced everyone to _the_girl; acquainting everyone with her intelligence, her quirkiness, her strange but endearing habits, her beauty and her _love._The words that he used when he talked about her were simply breathtaking, even the parts that were written bitterly. Truly, _they_were true love.

It did not take a genius to figure that out, and Lucy was not stupid.

She watched him gloomy countenance and wondered when she would ever see his happy ending.

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It was around two hours later before he found himself back in his own apartment. He drank just enough to numb his pain but not quite enough to plunge him into a state of unawareness.

He collapsed on his bed and tried to block out his memories – usually achievable after consuming a significant amount of alcohol – and watched the raindrops against his window.

Apparently it wasn't enough.

For the moment his head had hit his pillow, he thought of her. He cursed immediately knowing full well that once his mind started to reminisce, it was impossible to stop.

"I need another drink," he muttered resentfully as his mind began the works.

For a long time he was unable to push the thoughts of her out of his head; her face was everywhere, her voice a ghostly music to his ears. She was in his mind, body and soul! Just as he was beginning to place her in the corner of his heart to be gently remembered and loved from a far, she had returned to his life, shattering all the hard work that he had done of putting her on a pedestal to be admired, but never to have.

Oh how his heart ached! His mind told him to let go and start afresh with someone new but his heart couldn't stand the thought of her being in anyone else's arms but his.

Could he let her go without a fight?

_No._

Could he ever forget her?

_God, no._

So was he going to fight?

_Yes, oh hell, he was._

Burning with a new rekindled sense of passion, strongly fueled by the alcohol he had consumed, Jess got up from his bed, his head filled with nothing but her, his heart felt nothing but intense relief that he had decided to fight and win her back. He had known all along that it was going to come down to this, but it was always so hard for him to take the first step.

He did not fear rejection now; he was up for anything as long as it contributed to the odds of having her back with him.

He picked up his phone which was still perched on his sofa and without a moment of hesitation, he dialed her number.

It was peculiar how he saw things in perfect clarity whenever he was_this drunk. _If he had drunk just another couple glasses of beer, he wouldn't have been in _this state _of mind. He would be cold and numb, in his bed, or somewhere, trying to brutally kill his thoughts of Rory, succeeding for a while, but it was never permanent. Lucy definitely knew just how much of an amount to give in order for Jess to find his way back.

Great woman, she was.

The dial tone stretched on. Rory just had to pick up this time, she had to. Jess waited impatiently with bated breath, going over the words that he was going to say to her in his head. This time, it had to go right. This time, she had to come back to stay.

"Jess?"

It wasn't her.

The silence grew long.

The other person sighed. "She's in the bathroom."

Jess recognized the voice; the blood drained from his face.

"Stop calling."

_The blonde dick from Yale._

They both switched the phone off at the same time. It dropped out of Jess's hand as something tugged at his memory, something that he had read about _Logan Huntzberger. _The name sent his head into a spiral fury.

Dizzy and a bit tipsy, Jess went into his messy study and turned his computer on, the glare making him nauseated. He sat down on his chair, tapping his fingers incessantly on the table, trying hard to not think of the possibility of what surely was going on with Rory and that detestable Huntzberger. He quickly opened his internet browser, googled Logan Huntzberger and scanned the page of results.

It took him a few minutes to find what he was looking for; the news was rather outdated after all. But having found it and his memory having returned and confirmed, Jess just stared at the exploding headline in front of him, dumbstruck. Rory _must_be aware of this, how could she not be? She's a freaking reporter. To be fair, this was not her type of news, surely not at all, but shouldn't she know these things? And about someone she personally knows, too? She knows, oh she knew.

Sick with disgust, Jess at that very moment, _hated_Rory Gilmore.

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Loved it? Hated it? Was it worth the wait?

Click that button and let me know!

Love ya'lls.


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